PHOTO PROMPT © Janet Webb
Three days, four nights they waited, staring dry-eyed across the waves, at slate water torn to feathers by the wind.
Shawls pulled tight around their shoulders, the women stood apart, like the rocky weathered stacks at the bay’s mouth, holding strong under fierce gales and knife sharp rain.
Only when the first splintered board hit the shore did they start to crumble. And as the boats returned as match wood – fresh delivered to their feet with every crashing breaker – another woman shattered and another, until no wives remained.
Only widows.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneers. A truly lovely prompt with an amazing community of writers. If you’d like to play along and read more stories, see here.
As it’s the summer hols and writing time is scarce, I’ve combined this prompt with today’s Word for Wednesday, today’s word being WIDOW.
According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word comes down from the Old English widewe and it had many variations throughout Europe, among them the Dutch weduwe and weeuw, Old High German wituwa, German Witwe, Gothic widuwo, all linked to the Latin viduus meaning ‘bereft or void’.
Widow’s peak came about because that hairline was supposed to foretell early widowhood, echoing as it did the cap worn by bereaved wives.
The term grass widow is fascinating, at times meaning ‘mistress’ developing into a woman who pretends to be married but isn’t. It could also mean a woman whose husband has disappeared (either presumed dead or through desertion) and a woman who has had children outside marriage.
All bad news for the women, then.
Thanks to Kat, the founder of W4W.
A very evocative piece. I loved “knife sharp rain”.
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Thank you very much! And thanks for reading 🙂
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I loved this. The description of the women like weathered stacks is wonderful.
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Thanks so much Neil. Really kind of you 🙂
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BEAUTIUL and tragic… Coming from a seaside fishing town myself, I found this tale very evocative.
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The fate of fisherman’s wives for centuries – still is I’m sure, though they’re probably better informed now, with GPS and so on.
Still the most dangerous job you can have, being a fisherman. Terrifying stuff.
Thanks so much for reading, lovely 🙂
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Yeah I am a big fan of The Deadliest Catch
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Terrifying, though, isn’t it? You have to be a certain kind of bloke to cope with that – such tough work. Fascinating, though probably slightly intimidating men to know 🙂
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Ah they are pussycats really!
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Yeah, just like tigers are pussycats really 🙂
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Haha!
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🙂
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Wow, this is a great piece, very vivid and I was crushed at the end. I’m officially inspired to try out Friday Fictioneers, hopefully I can learn from the talented community!
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Thank you so much, Minelli! What a lovely comment. Do join Friday Fictioneers – the standard of writing is very high and everyone is terrifically supportive. It’s a great community and you’ll have a lot of fun too. Thanks for reading 🙂
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Dear Lynn,
Normally I would discourage the melding of two prompts. However if you hadn’t told us I’d never have known. Beautifully written with magnificent descriptions. Thank you for the etymology lesson for widow. I’m a logophile so I really enjoyed it.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thank you, Rochelle for your kind words. So glad you liked it. Combining prompts is not something I’d usually do, but summer pressures mean I’m struggling for time (as are we all, not least yourself! )
That widow etymology is interesting, isn’t it? I liked Straw Widow too – hadn’t heard that phrase before.
Thanks again for the kind words – and for the lovely prompt photo. All the best
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Lynne, I’m not sure your story really classifies as using two prompts. 😉 Using the word for your title was a brilliant idea. Some of the…most of the stories I’ve read using multiple prompts are like trying to sort through knotted threads of one color or trying to make sense of a train wreck.
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Haha! Yes, I know what you mean. I wrote the story for Fictioneers and stole one of the words from it to look at its etymology. I’ve seen stories like the ones you describe too – they’re often not entirely satisfactory for either prompt. 🙂
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oh dear. what a take. the comparison is just great. ❤
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Thanks so much. I did enjoy writing it – it rolled off very easily. Thanks for reading 🙂
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oooh. that’s awesome! 😀 you’re welcome!
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🙂
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Vivid imagery. The tone is in perfect harmony with the words
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Thank you Graham 🙂
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This was so heartbreakingly close to a real disaster… love the way you used the word widow… brilliant writing.
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Thank you so much, Bjorn – you’re very kind. The widow / wives section at the end just came to me and fell together nicely. Thanks for reading 🙂
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Oh, so well written. I could just envision myself standing on the shore, seeing the pieces of boat come ashore. And oh, beyond to when the bodies started popping up. Such a horrible and heartbreaking disaster. I read and think of Louisiana at the moment, waiting for flood to recede and the death that always comes in the aftermath. It calls me to prayers for the survivors.
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Thank you very much. Yes, horrible events, all through the centuries and up to the present day. The tragic events happening in Louisiana are sadly nothing new, but no less tragic for that.
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Lovely work Lynn, very moving scene as they wait for them to return.
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Thank you very much Iain. Very much appreciated 🙂
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So very well done. You’ve excelled yourself here. Loved it.
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Thank you Sandra. I very much appreciate that. This one flowed, not sure why, but it came pretty easily. Not always the way, is it, but when it is, it’s a joy. Thanks again 🙂
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Very descriptive. Those last few lines are so sorrowful
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Thanks so much Al. You’re every kind. Thanks for reading 🙂
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No wives remained, only widows. What a powerful ending to a fantastic, atmospheric story. I also love the etymology. Great work, Lynn.
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Thanks Gabi. I was chuffed with that last line – just a fortunate idea that struck as I was writing, but seemed to work well 🙂
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This is excellent.
In Glasgow last week I visited the Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery, where I always make a point of pausing before a sculpture by Pieter Braecke – Wives of Fishermen.
I love this piece and, although I have previously written my own tale inspired by it, your story brought it vividly to life.
Thank you.
http://collections.glasgowmuseums.com/viewimage.html?oid=165325&i=42710
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That’s a powerful sculpture, isn’t it? Those hollow-eyed faces – you can feel the fear pouring off them. Thank you for sharing it.
And thank you for your comments – can’t imagine being those women, waiting every time to see if their husbands come home safely, as so often they didn’t. Fisherman is still one of the most dangerous jobs even now. There’s no way to make the sea safer, is there?
Thanks so much for reading 🙂
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Echoing everyone else – heartbreaking, beautiful description, love the ending. Nice etymology in the notes too — I might have to think of a way to use “grass widow” in my stories now!
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Haha! Yes, I like grass widow too – never heard of it before. Plenty of options on how to use it as the meaning changed subtly over the years. Thanks for reading and glad you liked it 🙂
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Heart breaking story. I always understood ‘grass widow’ to refer to a woman whose husband is mostly absent, either through work or hobbies such as golf!
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Thanks Liz. I’m sure you’re right, that the phrase has been adopted to mean different things over time. It’s a good phrase and I like it alot. Must use it in a story 🙂
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Very powerful.
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Thank you Clare 🙂
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Always a pleasure! 🙂
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Woohoo! What a story!
Graphic description and the last line just about kills it!
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Thank you so much for your lovely comment. And thanks so much for reading 🙂
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You are welcome!
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🙂
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Powerful last line!
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Thank you so much, Dawn. This one came together really easily – doesn’t always happen but when it does, it’s a joy. Thanks for reading 🙂
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Beautiful images and incredible evocation of emotion – I love how you’ve used the idea of splintering wood to show the women’s distress.
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Thank you so much Margaret. I enjoy choosing images that help evoke emotions. And I liked the idea that the women splintered along with the boats that carried their men. Thank you very much for your kind comment and for reading 🙂
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Very sad because you’ve told it so well. I love the imagery of the boat returning to shore as splinters.
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Thank you so much, Michael. I’ve always thought what a terrible life that must be, always waiting to see if your loved one is going to survive the next trip. Thanks so much for reading 🙂
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